…because the pre-order for “Shattered: Memoirs of an Amnesiac” is LIVE and up on Amazon! Click here for the Kindle version: Amazon.
There will be a trade (paper) copy available closer to the release date of September 12, 2017, as well as links to Nook, iBooks, and Kobo. Keep an eye out for those releases, which will be noted on Facebook, Twitter, and this blog, but in the meantime, $3.99 will get you the entire manuscript of Shattered come 9/12!
And now, as promised every week up until the release, a fragment. These fragments are pieces of the memoir that you will (hopefully) hold in your hands (or on your tablets or eReaders!) very soon. Here is the very first excerpt – a teaser of the madness to come:
August 24th, 2010:
A neurologist whom I had apparently been seeing for seizures and other neurological conditions came to visit. And within a second, she dashed my ability to lie my way through my new, post-amnesia life.
“What is this?” she asked, holding an object in front of me.
“It’s bright,” I said. Of course that was the right answer. The object was bright. Idiot.
“Well, that’s a start,” she said, but then she looked at Toby and frowned. “Now really think about it this time. What am I holding in my hand?”
She sounded annoyed as hell. At that moment, I was some sort of race that she could not win. But she didn’t understand that I didn’t want her to lose. I wanted her to make me better. I wanted what everyone else seemed to have: knowledge.
I glanced over at Toby, hoping he would tell me what the object was. But he didn’t. He simply looked eager for me to respond. I couldn’t, though. And I couldn’t lie and say it was a phone, because I knew it wasn’t. It wasn’t a song, either. It was just this bright thing that she held. So I shrugged my shoulders and admitted defeat.
“It’s an umbrella,” the neurologist said. “It’s a yellow umbrella.” Then she said to Toby, “Well, she’s definitely had a brain injury, that’s for sure. I can’t be certain what she does or doesn’t recall at this moment. But I wouldn’t say this is a good start. She’s going to need a lot of rest, therapy, and time to get this right.”
Toby nodded, his eyes focused on the floor. I felt hurt. Why were they talking about me as though I didn’t exist? I was right there in the room. I was able to hear them. Did I cease to matter if I was injured in this manner? Was this how people spoke about those who were damaged?
“One more question,” my neurologist said. “What’s your name?”
“It’s Ruby. I know it is. That’s what I know.”
“Sure.” She looked at Toby again, shook her head, and left, closing the sliding glass door behind her. I could see her talking to a doctor on the other side, but I couldn’t hear a word she was saying. The look on her face was ominous.
I’ve let everyone down, I thought. I didn’t know what that yellow umbrella was. I have had a brain injury. Everything I had been saying was wrong.
And I still kept wondering about the phone person – the one who had sent me a message when I had woken from my coma. Who had sent me those words – “I miss you and love you always?” If Toby was this person called a husband, the person sitting right beside me, who else would dare send me such sentiments?
There were no answers, though. Only questions. So I allowed myself to give in to some music, and I rested, hoping that whatever had been broken inside of me would repair as quickly as possible.
(For more excerpts from “Shattered: Memoirs of an Amnesiac,” please check back every Monday at 10 am. And pick up your pre-order for Kindle today right here on Amazon!)